


The Wind is Blowing

by Aikatsu



Series: The Wind is Blowing [1]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Character Death, F/M, Fate/AU, Fluffiness & Bonding, It's going to be Dark, Murder, Potential later smut, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2018-10-19 12:23:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10639770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aikatsu/pseuds/Aikatsu
Summary: Newt Scamander has disappeared into the wilds of China. Gellert Grindelwald has escaped MACUSA and left chaos in his wake. Europe is in total upheaval and Grindelwald has continued his search for power beyond that of any man. He's forced his way into an ancient ritual for the Holy Grail. War is now paramount and the magical world is left in Darkness. Tina Goldstein, Auror and heir to her family's magical crest, finds herself thrust into the middle. Grindelwald's thirst for power knows no ends and the scariest part is: There's a very likely chance he'll win this war.No matter what, as if you are breathing,even if the day-- 'today' is painful...Shall we start with what we can do?





	1. Chapter 1

_In this vacuum_ _of a land completely changed_  
we lost our words and stood still  
What should we start on first?

Tina Goldstein openly groaned as she heaved a stack of newspapers onto the table.

Her lips formed a thin line as her eyes skated over the various headlines before her. The earliest comes from nearly a year before, the text written in Mandarin. Obtained when a certain magizoologist’s letters stopped coming and each headline painstakingly translated for any hints of the man’s locations. Several others follow it, each some weeks a part, each as poured over as the first.

Those days taper off an instead the languages of other, closer countries take up its place: Belgium, Germany, France, England, Norway—One or two from Russia of all places. Whereas the ones from China had been picked apart in their entirety these ones needed no such thing. The bold print on each of them had one glaringly despairing word: _Grindelwald_. Nearly five years ago the events in New York had place and turned her life upside down. Nearly a year ago the man had escaped from his cell, killed his guards, and massacred almost all the Aurors who hunted him down.

_Almost_ all of them.

MACUSA had been in a state of disarray ever since. The Ministry of Magic had tried to assist, but even the Aurors it had sent were rattled and the magical world felt the loss of one of its rising powers greatly. Of course, the Mage’s Association, coveted as it was, had to keep its hands neutral and barely offered a word of solidarity to the loss of America’s magical community. As it was _contained_ they hardly cared—The woman’s skin itched at the thought.

She felt no glee at the fact the Mage’s Association was now eating its own disinterest. Grindelwald was acting with great fanfare, slaughtering those without magic without any repent. The headlines all blared of wizarding attacks, but as an Auror she knew that wasn’t the truth—this was in part why she’d collected so many of the newspapers in the last few weeks. The Mage’s Association was doing a good job of covering up the deaths of the now dozens of no-majs, but it wouldn’t be long before it reached the ears of the magical community.

But how much longer?

Tina’s drawn from her reverie by an all too familiar burning sensation that reaches to her bone. Her eyes flickered to the sleeve of her blouse, the glyph beneath it glowing faintly. _Of course_. There was no such thing as a day off these days and, idly, in some ways she can’t help but be grateful for it: At least it kept her mind away from other matters. Giving another frustrated sound, she grabbed the fresh cup of coffee she had poured, downed half of it in a gulp, before slamming it on the table and Apparating on the spot.

She barely mumbles a word to the doorman and Red reads her without question. Tina remembers faintly the time when Macusa seemed alive with its workers, but conversation had died months ago and everyone scurried from one place to another afraid. As if it were them that had faced the brunt of Grindelwald’s attacks some months ago. Clenching her jaw she offers Red a nod before stepping off the elevator that had come to a grinding halt on the floor of the Major Investigation’s Department.

Half of the desks in the hall are empty and its all the woman can do to keep her eyes from settling on even one of them.

The few members of the department lingering around speak in hushed whispers or poured over case files before them. Though many of them felt the itch to go to Europe and assist in the fighting there, the inner turmoil America was facing made things all hands-on-deck. Even for those who were on loan.  The whispers of war echo in these hallways and it’s never a matter of how but of _when_.

“Come in,” an all too familiar drawl calls when she knocks on the door to the Head Auror’s office. Tina’s shoulders set as she opens it, eyes peering over the near homey interior of the man’s office. She’d been here more times than she can count—most often in varying stated of anxiety. She notes with some bemusement the day she had to wait for him to appear and had taken to counting and memorizing every one of the books on his shelves in her attempts to not panic.

“Mr. Graves, sir,” Tina addressed abruptly, closing the door behind her before furthering herself into the room, “you called?”

Percival’s eyes tear from the paperwork he was working on in acknowledgement. His attention returns to his work and she smiles ruefully. Most of the other Aurors got anxious when he did this, but after a near decade of working with the man she’s gotten used to his habits when it came to his work. He may allow you into his office, but if it wasn’t urgent he wasn’t going to stop until he was ready.

“Don’t sit down,” Percival ordered over the top of his quill when she moved forward—A peculiar look crossed her features but she did not disobey otherwise. Instead she watched as with a smooth flick of his wrist his signature appeared on the document before him and he raised himself from his seat. Tina stepped aside when the man moved to the door, curiosity rising but the question catching in her throat.

Percival afforded her a glance that wore the years of his position in MACUSA. Even after they had found him and he learned of all Grindelwald’s doings he didn’t look this _dead_. It’s with a sickening jolt that she realizes these affairs are getting to him—to Percival Graves, the man she had always considered invulnerable.  “With me, Goldstein,” he addresses with the same familiar authority and she remembers how to breathe. No, Percival Graves wasn’t dead the fiery determination remained within him, coiled around the loss of the men he had trained and hand-picked.

She nodded and followed him without further ado.

 “Where we are going is confidential as anything we speak of from here on out,” Percival remarked, locking the door behind him with a complicated spell before continuing, “you are free to ask any questions you wish, but I do not guarantee any answers. Understand?”

Tina’s brows furrow in response. Free to ask any questions that she wishes? She’s never been afraid to ask the man what she wanted to—she has confronted him more than once in recent years—but she hardly believes it’s something that needs to be addressed.

Percival huffs a laugh, “I’ll take that answer as a no. You’ll understand soon enough, Tina.”

Several questions rush forward, but Percival turns back then to press a finger to his lips to quiet her. Her shoulders slump as she gives a nod, training her eyes to follow his footsteps. She could ask any questions she wished except for right now it seemed. Tina doesn’t have long to wait, however, for it’s a flight of stairs and two corridors later that he leads them into an empty room. It’s reminiscent of the interrogation chambers on the lower floors. Except there’s no table or chairs and in the far corner Is another door.

She whirls on him in time to see the man shutting and locking the door with an even more complex series than he had on his office. Her hand flies to her pocket from her wand, her mind pouring all her energy into the magic etched into her upper arm.

“I don’t have to ask if you remember the incident that took place some twenty years ago do I?”

The fire that had roared up within her was doused in an instant. Her hand stopped groping for her wand with the faint smell of burning. A hiss of pain escaped her lips as the tingle of magic burned her skin. The hand that had moved for her wand instead moved to grasp her arm where the crest thrummed underneath. “Damn it,” the woman ground out under her breath to a bemused Percival Graves.

“I would have hoped you’d gotten better at holding in your emotions,” he remarked dryly, ignoring the look she helplessly shot at him, “I’ll take that answer as a yes then. With that I’m sure you can guess as to why you’re here, Miss Goldstein.”

“No,” she answered sharply, dropping her hand to her side. Of course, she knew why. The “incident,” as he described it, twenty years ago had been the point that started everything. It was the reason she and Queenie were orphans, the reason she’d become an Auror, and apparently the reason she was here—Locked in a room with her boss and an outcome she didn’t dare to think about.

Percival heaved a sigh at her stubbornness. “The Mage’s Association has continued with its ceremonies despite international wishes,” he answered plainly, adjusting the cuffs of his jacket, “a German man who hoped to claim the Holy Grail for himself was intercepted and killed by another. The person who murdered him successfully summoned a Servant with the relic the man had obtained.”

“What does that have to do with u—“

“That man,” Percival interceded, voice darkening, “was Gellert Grindelwald.”

Her heart drops into her stomach. Percival does not need to elaborate for her to understand the direness of the situation. Few people were presented the knowledge of the Mage’s Association’s sacred ritual, a ritual they deemed necessary for the betterment of mankind as a whole. Aurors were some of the few privileged few. The Holy Grail war: A battle wherein those with magic would summon forth a Servant to battle for their chance at the grail itself. It was said if they won that their wish would be granted…

…If _Grindelwald_ won…

“Your father was chosen as a Master was he not?”

There it was.

In truth, far fewer Aurors knew about the inner makings of the ritual the Mage’s Association performed. Tina hardly had the clearance, but she knew—How could she not? As much as she’s tried to cast those memories away they linger in the crevices of her mind. She remembers walking in on her father before the complex array, tears in his eyes as he spoke the summoning that bores into her worst nightmares. The sight of an unfamiliar stranger, her father leaving—They day he comes home, a shell of the man he was…

Going to say good night later that evening to a pool of blood…

It wasn’t suicide, although the news articles had said as much, but she knew it wasn’t.

It’s too much. Her stomach heaves, uphurling the coffee and barebones breakfast she’d had that morning. Tina knew why she had been summoned, knew the cards that were being served her, and the overwhelming despair of the situation was too much—too much—She couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t. Her breath labored, the contents of her stomach now dispelled, but she can’t seem to move herself to stand up. She’s frozen to that spot.

“If you’re unwilling to do what needs to be done, we’ll find your sister,” Percival says after some time—the tone of his voice firm. Even if he feels remorse for the young woman before him it doesn’t show and she would have noticed it. Not when her world tilted and she shot to her feet lurching at him.

“Your family’s bloodline has already shown they can produce capable Masters. If you’re not going to do it then we’ll have to speak to Queenie next,” the man goes on evenly, his dark eyes meeting hers. He’s not speaking out of malice but as a man resigned to do what needs to be done. Tina’s fingers curl and she raises her fist--- A threat if ever one, but Percival’s hand clasps over it with all too much ease as she flings it towards him.

Wherein she might normally wince and retreat, she glares at him in reproach—A quiet challenge to tell him to fire her, to punish her, to do whatever else he might want, but he wasn’t making Queenie do this. “Tina,” he says finally, voice softer than she’s heard it in sometime—perhaps since they found him in that distant cellar, malnourished, and badly broken.

“We cannot allow Grindelwald to win this war,” he reminds her as she yanks her hand away from his,  “several Aurors have tried unsuccessfully to summon a Servant… You should know that _I_ tried myself and failed.”

Her eyes shoot upwards to him. Tina understands then the look he’d given her in the office. He had tried and failed to do his duty—to protect his people—not once but several times. Then when they needed him most his own abilities had failed him in producing a Servant. Percival Graves felt like he was letting his people down.

“But sir,” she fumbled, stopping when he chuckled darkly.

“Not all family’s or magical beings have Master potential,” He answered her unspoken question, fingers digging deep into the pockets of his jacket—a notable disdain on his features, “the Graves family has tried in the past to produce a Master but has failed. This is not the first time. For all of our ambitions and power the Grail has never chosen _us_.”

“And you think it’ll choose me?” She remarked incredulously, a disbelieving laugh in her voice.

“There is a better chance of you or your sister than anyone else in this entire department,” Percival returned, waving his wand to clean up the mess she had made without casting it a look, “bloodlines are as important as magical ability. For whatever reason the Grail has chosen the Goldstein family for candidacy. The rest is on you, Miss Goldstein.”

His eyes flicker towards the door at the back of the room. A mage’s workshop, then, she thinks dryly likely with everything needed for a summoning.

“If I choose not to you’ll get Queenie,” Tina said without need of an answer, not that Percival deemed her with one, “and if I fail…?”

His brow arched, bemusement following, “We will not fault you if the Grail does not choose you. Nor if you decide you do not wish to try. As long as you are aware of what is at stake.”

She knows it’s not at a threat towards her sister. Not intentionally, but Queenie was married now. To Jacob. She was pregnant, too, and if MACUSA found them and found out… Even if they wouldn’t force or hurt Queenie over this she would get in trouble. They all would. But Percival wasn’t speaking of that, either, he knew that she could never risk allowing Grindelwald to hurt more people if she could stop it.

A hand fell to her lips in effort to push back the contents of her ever-rolling stomach. She’d seen plenty in her life, but this was never something that crossed her mind. Not for her future and, certainly, not something she would have to visit or act upon herself. Tina shoots Percival a withering look, but the man takes it gracefully. Wiping at her mouth Tina sucks in a breath before taking a shaky step back.

“So I can’t fail,” Tina mustered with all of the confidence she could. If she did fail then they would certainly go looking for Queenie as the closest “Master potential” in America. Were there others here…? She didn’t know; In some ways, she didn’t want to find out. Her hand slipped to her side, shoulders hunching before she gives an erratic shake of her head, _“Fine_.”

If she was any less of who she was she would have screamed or spit on the floor or done something, but she doesn’t. Instead she sets her shoulders, casts the man another look, and then rounds on the spot to the room set in the back. She shrugs off her jacket once inside, locking the door without a second glance back. The jacket is tossed into the corner before she turns to the darkened room before her.

The array had already been set out. At least it seemed Percival hadn’t lied about them trying this before, but she doubted he was the man to try. Her feet carry her across the room where the pedestal sat—a tattered piece of cloth of no distinguish given its place of honor. Worthless to the untrained eye, but a relic of some hero’s past—but who?

Tina huffed out a breath, tucked an unruly strand of hair behind her air, and made her way back across the room. There a table was lined with jewels that may be needed, each of store of power, but it’s the books lined towards the back that catch her eye. She remembers faintly that her father had been up late… Shooting the array a fervent backwards glance she picks up one of the books and takes up the chair in front of the table.

It’s not long before her suspicions are confirmed that the runes within the book say the time best used for the summoning was two a.m., when magic would be at its peak. It had been barely past noon when she was called and hardly any longer than an hour had passed. Tina pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration before turning the page.

As much as she wants to go out and get fresh air or be anywhere else she thinks more wisely of it: Given half a chance she might not come back. She’d go to the Kowalskis and tell Queenie they need to leave. The thought sits in the back of her mind, but the softer part of her mind refutes it. She would try if it meant helping people, even if she doubts it will work even with Mr. Graves utter convince that it would.

Thankfully, the hours’ trickle by faster than she thought they would. She finishes the second book by the time the clock strikes one and ignores the way her empty stomach crones for food. There is no way she would keep anything down now. Tina makes certain the door is locked before peeling off her blouse until she’s in her thin undershirt. Her gaze flickers to the magical crest her father had placed on her so long ago. Her lower lip catches between her teeth before she gives another shaky breath and moves to set about the preparations.

Of all the things that her father had taught her about this side of magic she hardly expected it to come to this.

Tina’s mind turned to her work enabling her to forget, even for a moment, the contexts of what she was about to do. She set out the magicked jewels, ensured the silver was properly placed, and redrew the array where someone’s feet had scuffed it up. Snorted, even, at the misspelling of a word in one place before fixing it. She finishes her adjustments right as the clock strikes the last minute of the hour. It was time to begin then.

Carefully placing the materials needed at their points, the woman did not hesitate as she entered the middle of the circle. She had steeled herself hours ago to what she would have to do. Knew at her core it would work because she would demand it to—If they did find Queenie—

Now was not the time to think about that.

“I announce,” Her voice stops quivering with the uncertainty of her words then, thick in determination as she raises her hand above its center, “Your self is under me, my fate is in your sword.  In accordance with the approach of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer.”

Nothing happens.

Still, the woman doesn’t miss a beat.

“Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead, I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world of the dead.

 You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance ―――！”

Nothing. Still _nothing_ happens.

The air is stagnant. A stillness to it as if all the life has been sucked out, waiting for an answer to a prayer that won’t come. Her hand curls to a fist and falls to her side. The lights of the room didn’t even so much as _waver_. She should feel relieved, but it doesn’t come—for she knows it will be her sister next. Swallowing roughly, the woman turned on her heel towards the table. She would just have to try again.  Tina’s barely taken a step forward before the array sparks with electricity. No, not electricity—magic.

Her magic.

The crest on her arm glows the same luminescent blue as the lights that now surround her. Wind rushes from nowhere and everywhere at once. Her body feels as if it’s on fire from the sheer pressure of the force of the presence. A sheering sensation, as if real flames were licking over her skin, comes from the back of her hand.

As rapidly as it hard all started it stops. Tina let’s out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding before raising her hand to her face. Whatever minute pain there had been was gone, but it’s in place was something else altogether. Three red marks in an intricate design—Some might consider it a tattoo and others a magic crest, but she knows it’s neither of those things. Command Seals, she realizes. A Master has three commands that give them ultimate authority over their Servant. That means---

“Ah,” A voice utters, strangely familiar, “hullo.”

Her conclusion is solidified when she turns around. Tina’s eyes fall to their feet first—workboots and slacks. That seems odd for what she knows of Servants (weren’t they Heroic figures of the past? Arthur Pendragon…? Herakles…? She knows she read about William Shakespeare having once been summoned maybe she had managed him--). Her eyes continue their upward trail—mustard waistcoat and peacock blue coat—

Her heart hammers in her chest and she finds the slow inspection of the man before her ends there. Her gazes tears instead upwards to the face of a man that’d been haunting her dreams for months. A man she’d hoped would keep writing her letters, that had disappeared in some backwards past of China—Unruly ginger hair and freckles. Definitely him, but there was a worrisome set to his lips. An uncertain smile matched with cloudy eyes.

“You are—“ She starts, voice catching in her throat.

The man steps forward to brush the familiar unruly strand of hair behind her ear. For all the world, he was the same man that had left her not once, but twice on the New York harbor. Always with a promise to return. His watery eyes gave his untold story as he caught her eyes, smile too small and too hesitant.

“I am the Rider class Servant,” He answers with finality.

To her he was Newt.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hours after the summoning, Newt and Tina must learn to navigate their new relationship. Their old one cannot be forgotten so easily.

_ Searching for the light _

_ in the midst of despair _

“Where is your sister?”

Tina paused in her motion to place her jacket on the clothes rack his voice breaking the silence that had followed them from MACUSA. She gave a slow exhale before she hastily threw it up and turned to the man. She found it difficult she was supposed to believe he was something as grandiose as a  _ Heroic Spirit _ when he wouldn’t stop looking at his blasted shoes.

“She moved out a while ago,” She answered after a moment and toed off her shoes as she placed her hand against the wall. A few murmured words and the runes there came to life, preventing anyone from spying or coming in without notice. Tina turned back and noted the way Ne—Rider stared at her curiously and rolled her eyes. “She and Jacob got married a year and a half ago. They’re expecting now.”

“Oh,” he responded dejectedly, “do you think we’ll…?”

“No,” Tina responded immediately matched with a glare. Newt withered under it only slightly before she moved to turn on the stove. “We’re not getting her involved in this. Jacob or the baby either. Let’s just eat supper and go to sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.” A flick of her wand gathered the items she would need from the cupboard as she set about the familiar motion of preparing a meal.

The silence that follows reminded her of the first time he had been in this apartment. Except even with their awkward states it had been lively with the sounds of Queenie and Jacob. There’s a jolt of a familiar pang of emotion when she lowered her wand, food settled onto the table. It’s hardly Queenie’s wonderful cooking, but it’s been enough for her. Settling into the table she gave Newt a scornful look when he remained standing. “What is it?” She demanded when he finally sat down reluctantly.

Newt’s smile was more of a grimace. Her brow arched demandingly higher on her forehead. “Well, you see,” he started his hand moving to press against the lapel of his jacket, “I don’t strictly  _ need  _ to eat.” Tina furrowed her brows with a scoff before she leaned forward to gather some of the food on a plate and shoved it towards him. 

“…Master?”

She ignored his question a moment in lieu of gathering her own plate in a much less aggressive manner. “You can still enjoy it can’t you?” Tina finally remarked, going for her own fork, barely affording a glance towards his sheepish look, “besides I remember reading that even if eating or sleeping is not needed for you to survive as you are they do help regenerate your mana. And since you seem to be _ insistent  _ on staying in a physical form we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

The man turned his eyes towards the food before him before he accepted his fate. “Ma—Tina,” he corrected when she shot him another look. They’d had this argument hours before: He was still to call her as he usually would, she would have none of this being called  _ Master _ business. “I felt you might be more comfortable if I stayed manifested…” 

She frowned darkly and speared a piece of chicken with her fork. While it was true that she preferred to see the man in the flesh it was hardly the logical move. The amount of mana, or magical energy, it took to keep him maintained like this would deplete what might be necessary for later. If he remained in spiritual form than it was far less of a hassle. Of course, he had to be right in the fact that not being able to see him was far less desirable.  “For now, it’s fine,” She finally agreed, “without any battles taking place it isn’t a problem. But that doesn’t mean…” Newt nodded solemnly as he went for his own food. “Of course,” He answered before he afforded her the smallest of smiles. Tina huffed as she plucked at the food on her plate before her. It seemed they had reverted to the start of their relationship, she can’t help the way her gaze flickered to the simple band that rested on her finger.

It's difficult for her to believe that nearly two years before had been the last she’d seen him. She remembered watching with rosy cheeks and a delighted laugh as he promised once more to come back. His green orbs had peered triumphantly to the hand where the band he’d presented her some days before was proudly worn. He’d promised through their combined tears—of what emotion she can’t fathom—that he would be back in a few short months and finally make an _ honest _ woman of her.

That memory seemed as if it was a was a lifetime ago.

Tina hunched her shoulders and turned back to the mutilation of her food. A glance upward was met with the sight of the man’s gaze lingering forlornly at her hand. Her cheeks heated before she hastily placed the fork and knife down, fingers going to tug at the band. It was going to have to come off, she thought irritably. Yet before it could leave the tip of her finger, a hand clasped around her own preventing her from doing so. Tina reflexively glared upwards, but any bite is lost at the all too watery way Newt was looking at her.

Her throat closed in on itself and the woman glanced blearily away. “ _ Tina _ ,” he breathed, the sound too familiar, earnest and loving, “please, don’t.” There’s a tremble to his voice that matched the shakiness of his hand atop of hers. She swallows roughly, gently prying her hand away from his. The usual coolness of the precious metal heated against her finger, threatening to overwhelm her. Or maybe that was simply the tears and the months of anger and worry pooling inside of her.

“You broke your promise,” Tina responded tightly with a jut of her jaw.

Newt’s hands fell and he moved to kneel before her on the floor. He attempted to peer up at her but dropped his gaze all too quickly. “I’m terribly sorry,” He breathed with little hesitation. Newt does not deny it. Her shoulders shake with barely contained tears before she buried her head into her hand to hide herself away.  She’d never let herself mourn Newt before. Even when logic had told her he wouldn’t return, she’d stubbornly ignored it and kept up her search. Newt was out there, he had to be.

Now the man was here before her but the meaning was entirely different. She could reach and touch him, but he was a fleeting existence. A spirit given form for a war that neither party would want to be in. Not like this. She could feel Newt move to stand up next to her and she can’t yet bring herself to look towards him. The shakiness she’d felt all evening enough to spill over.

“Tina,” Newt croaked more firmly.

The woman took a deep breath before she settled the man with a look of inquiry. Newt stood before her, dressed in worn work clothes, and tears staining his face.  She knew she looked just as bad as him at that moment, even with the determined set to her jaw. “I believe…” He started carefully, “you should perhaps rest. We can finish preparations in the morning.”

Her hand fell to her side, gripping the knee of her pant leg. There it was again: the forced distance they’d placed between themselves in the last several hours. “That would be the most logical thing,” Tina agreed somewhat forcefully. Logical was not a thing her heart wanted to do right now. It wanted to take the man in her arms, to shout, to cry-- To break. But none of it would solve anything and, worse, the fragile bit of happiness would be lost too.

She glanced at the plate of food before her, massacred more than eaten, and huffed a breath as she pushed herself from the table. Before she could pick up the plate, Newt’s grabbed it and his own and headed to the sink. “What should you like for breakfast tomorrow?” He inquired softly, rough hands already going to work while she stood there a growing shade of faint pink.

“I figured I’d just grab a bagel on the way to MACUSA,” she returned, brow arched. It was half a truth, anyway. She usually grabbed a bagel on work days, he should know that. Tomorrow-- or today, rather-- she had planned on visiting Queenie and Jacob, but with Newt’s sudden appearance and the change of circumstances it would be the usual. “From the bakery?” He continued prodding and the woman huffed in return.

“No,” She shot back, “and I already told you we can’t go botherin’ them. Me because there’s no way I’ll be managing to hide this from Queenie. You because--”

She cut herself short when Newt turned to her. The same apologetic look that had been on his features all evening gracing his presence. “Me,” He said softly, in offering, “because I’m dead?”

He’d said it. The words they’d been dancing around since his summoning. There was no other explanation for it. Of course, servants could come from any point in time. But Newt had been missing for a year and knew his own tale.  Tina took a shaky breath and closed her eyes to focus--an ability that seemed a distant memory with how her mind hadn’t stopped swirling in nearly twenty-four hours.

“No,” She snapped back, though the heat wasn’t there, “because the last thing we need is my very pregnant sister fainting.” Fainting because he was dead, of course, but the dry humor was there. It’s enough to make Newt give an awkward laugh and her to catch her breath. This wasn’t going to be easy. She still wasn’t sure how she’d work out telling Queenie she was going to Europe. Especially when she couldn’t tell her sister any of this and she’d never attempt to use Occlumency around here.

Tina stifled a yawn before she glanced towards the clock. Its face read that it was six forty-five a.m.. The woman grimaced to herself knowing the sun was coming up without even looking towards a window. She was supposed to be reporting back to MACUSA at nine. There was no way she was getting any real sleep and today was going to be even longer than the last.

A hand brushing against her cheek brought her out of her thoughts. Blearily she looked up at the man as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a familiar gesture she’d longed for in recent months. It catches her heart in her throat and for a moment she wondered if the man would do something more--

Instead, he smiled in the same soft, apologetic way she’d come to know intimately in the last six hours. “Bed, my love,” He insisted gently and Tina nodded mutely. She stepped away from the man stifling another yawn. It wouldn’t be a real sleep, but it was one that was met with the tiniest of smiles.

_ My love.  _

Neither would mention the slip for sometime, but it would remain there like the fluttering of a heart. They may be master and servant and their time together a fleeting fraction of what they should have had-- But for now they were together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I got really self-conscious about how I was developing this story. However, my goal is to write the entire thing during NaNoWriMo. So please look forward to it!
> 
> This chapter was more setting the stage but the real action will start by chapter four! Now how will Newt and Tina cope...?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning comes too soon. Difficult decisions are made, strategies discussed, and some surprises appear. In it all fleeting moments of peace exist.

_ If there is _

_ a G-d somewhere, _

_ please break open _

_ a new world _

_ from this land once more _

Morning came far too soon.

Tina’s mind was slow to process the events of the night prior. She rolled over in her bed, blinking blearily at the light that filtered in through her window. The smell of something cooking-- pancakes?-- caught her off guard. No one was supposed to be in her apartment. She shifted from her position in the bed and grabbed her wand from her bedside table. Her hand wrapped around its base before she stopped herself abruptly. On the back of her hand was the red markings of Command Seals. 

Command Seals.

She took a deep breath to steady herself, thoughts finally organizing themselves into place as she lumbered to her feet. Tina held her wand loosely as she crossed the room and paused briefly before her hand went for the sliding door. She steeled herself with another breath before sliding the door open. There on the other side, of course, was a man scraping at a pan of food.

“Breakfast?” She inquired mildly.

Newt didn’t glance up from his work as he flipped a pancake over. “I thought you could do with a proper breakfast this morning,” He responded as she pulled out a chair from the table. Tina noted a cup placed before her and for a moment inwardly recoiled. Tea, Newt had always preferred his tea. At least that was certainly the thought that came to mind before she caught its scent. 

She tossed the man a look before she picked up the hot beverage, reveling in the warmth it spread to her toes. “Bagels  _ are _ a proper breakfast,” She countered, bringing the drink to her lips, “we’ll have to report in soon.” Tina pulled the cup away to glance at the clock. Of the two Goldstein sisters she had never been the morning person. It was true she would wake up for work, but she felt groggy and insisted coffee was the only way to wake herself up.

Tina glanced back at the cup, the faintest of smiles tugging on the corners of her lips. When they had days like this together before, Newt usually made tea. He wasn’t often around when she left for work, given he’d been taking care of his creatures. Days like this were on days when she was off and he’d always made his favorite teas while she complained they weren’t coffee. It was heartwarming to see he remembered how she started work off…

But then, more than anything, she was glad to see that it wasn’t a dream. Newt was here. He was following a similar pattern to those fleeting days before and as much as her heart twisted in her chest… She couldn’t deny the pleasant sensation of being here, with him, for even one more moment.

Newt breaks her out of her reverie by placing a plate of food before her. Tina darted her eyes upwards, brow arched, but there appeared to be no reason to say anything. As soon as he placed hers down, Newt hefted a plate of his own up. She gave a short nod before she settled back into her seat to pick up her fork.

A peaceable silence followed. The pair ate and drank without looking at each other, but unlike the late dinner there was a comfort to it. Tina was aware there were things that needed to be discussed and this moment wouldn’t last, yet she took the chance to cling for it a while longer. Only when her plate was empty did the woman scoot her chair back and release a sigh.

“About today,” She started, unceremoniously breaking the mood, “it would be better if you stayed dematerialized while we’re within MACUSA. It would be different if you were a different Heroic Spirit, but if you were to walk into it like you are…”

“Everyone would know who I am,” Newt concluded. 

Tina glanced towards him to nod before adding, “Mister Graves will understand. However, it’s not just MACUSA. It was fine last night, since even New York’s dead at four in the morn’, but it won’t be when we’re traveling.” The woman allowed her words to linger in the air as she moved to place her plates in the washbasin. This was an issue they needed to discuss early, before they were muddied anymore with unspoken emotions.

A flick of her wand saw the dishes doing themselves before she turned back to where the man remained seated. “Then we’ll have to be careful,” He answered gently, to which the woman’s nose scrunched up before she managed a short nod. Newt had been correct the night prior--The woman did prefer him in the flesh than in spirit form, but if they were to survive this battle he would have to hide his identity for as long as possible. They were at a disadvantage with him being  a person from their place and time, most people would recognize him as the man who first captured Grindelwald and a famous Magizoologist.

“I’m going to get dressed,” Tina mentioned as she tossed the clock a furtive glance, “then we’ll have to head out. We’ll already be late.”

Tina breezed around the kitchen table to return to her room. Her heart weighed heavily in her chest. _ Stop it _ , she mentally reprimanded herself,  _ you’re going to have to get used to this _ . The woman grunted her distaste as she shoved off pajama bottom and top making quick work of putting on her workday clothes. In recent years she had stopped wearing her parents old clothing, but instead made her own wardrobe. Though one wouldn’t know it given it was just two years ago she went shopping last and, more to the point, she still wore the beat up locket that was once her mother’s.

It was a small change, but a noticeable one all the same.

She paused briefly with her hand hovering over the familiar locket. She didn’t like she had slept a wink and she certainly didn’t feel like she had. A quick charm sorted out her tousled hair, but she hardly felt very human. Was it some effect of the summoning? There was a quiet knock on her door at that thought and she swallowed roughly. Magically the summoning had gone perfectly, or so it seemed-- No, the way she was feeling was much closer to home.

The woman grounded herself before she moved to wrench open the door. On the other side Newt was once more staring at his feet. “Newt,” She started sharply as she passed by him, “You can speak. Didn’t I tell you that I didn’t care any about this master-servant business? If we’re going to work together it will have to be as it always was. Got it?” She only stopped when she was at the door, one hand resting on the knob, and she tossed him a curt look.

“Yes, well,” He started haphazardly, though the smile was much truer on his face, “we do work well together.” 

Tina snorted, “You can say that again.”

He doesn’t. Instead as she flung open the door she took the steps alone. No one exited the building with her and no one would return with her either. At least no one that anyone else could see. A weight had lifted all the same. It felt as if they had made progress even if in a small way. That was enough for her as she made her way back toward the Woolworth building.

 

 

Tina found that the Auror Department was as solemn as the night before. Fewer of them were in attendance that morning, most probably already dealing with the day's’ work. Those that remained were just enough to make her feel uneasy with the looks they shot her and the way their conversations died as she past. It became quite clear that confidential most of it may have been, the rest of the department knew something had transpired the night before.

“This is going to get old fast,” She mumbled under her breath. Tina was beginning to think that traveling to Europe and being away from her co-workers was actually going to make her feel _ better _ .At least there no one would know her. She tucked a strand of hair behind her air before she knocked on the Director’s door. To her surprise the door swung open without her having to wait a moment longer and she stepped inside.

Before she could take note of her surroundings the door shut and locked itself in a complicated array. Tina tossed it a look before turning her attention to the desk at the center of the room. The only other person in the room was Percival Graves and if at all possible he looked even more ashen than the night before. “What is it, Mister Graves, sir?” She rushed to inquire, becoming tongue-tied in her hurry.

“News of an incident in Romania arrived this morning,” Percival said steadily, one hand rubbing at his brow, “a village  of roughly two-hundred were found dead.”

Tina stopped in her movement to approach his desk as the words settled on her shoulders. Two-hundred people? “It was not a No-Maj incident,” He continued, leveling his gaze, “every last man, woman, and child were found with their hearts ripped from their chests. By the time our European counterparts arrived it was too late. I’m sure you can guess what this means, Miss Goldstein.”

For a moment, Tina remained unresponsive. Two-hundred innocent people who, just yesterday, were going about their lives wiped away in a single night. The thought was as terrifying as it was shocking and the woman found herself lost for words. She felt rooted to the spot she stood, as if moving was an impossible task.

_ Breathe, Tina,  _ A voice whispered into her mind. Newt’s voice. She took a shuddering breath as she forced herself forward. “More will follow if we don’t do something about it soon,” He added calmly, but she noted this tone too. Though he spoke of it smoothly Percival Graves was unable to forgive himself for not being able to participate in the action, to not be able to help when he was truly needed.

“How much time until the portkey is read?” She inquired, driving to the heart of the matter. If they were going to put an end to this it could only happen when they confronted the man behind it.

“Three days,” Percival answered, “that’s the soonest the Transportation department feels they can have a suitable one safely prepared. You’ll stop first briefly in London to meet with a liaison there. From there you’ll be in Romania within a day. The Ministry of Magic won’t be able to assist you further, but the Mage’s Association has placed its top members nearby. Of course, MACUSA will provide for your room and board, but anything other than monetary provisions will also be impossible from us.”

It was a thorough explanation to simply say she was on her own, but she knew the man enough to understand the underlying meaning. On an official capacity, neither government could intervene. Only the Mage’s Association had jurisdiction over the Holy Grail War. At the moment they considered the casualties an effect of that-- It wasn’t a large enough scale to send civilian witches and wizards into the fray. It would be a while, if at all, that help would arrive in this war.

“I understand, sir,” Tina responded after taking a deep breath.

“You will have three days to set your affairs in order, Miss Goldstein,” He continued after a moment, still all authority, “I needn’t remind you there is no guarantee of your safe return. I suggest that you ensure everything is settled before your departure.” Tina shot the man a look, although the heat was lost under his returned gaze. Percival Graves had trained her--He didn’t need to use legilimency to know she had decided to stay away from her sister. That involving her in it would be too dangerous, the risks too high. Now he was practically ordering her to make sure she visited her.

Percival pushed back from his seat and rounded around his desk to look at one of the shelves behind his desk. “Now, then,” He started, “I’m aware that you successfully summoned a Servant, but you haven’t provided me the details of which one you called forth. Is there a reason for this, Miss Goldstein?”

The question was almost one to make her laugh. There was no doubt that Percival knew there was a reason for it. By the time she had summoned him the rest of the workers had retired to their homes and she’d simply been instructed to send a message by owl to his home. In fear of interception she hadn’t even put the man’s class within the letter.

“There’s a reason for it, yes,” Tina remarked smoothly, “Rider?”

Tina doesn’t have to look to know that the man’s materialized himself beside her. She can feel the intensity rolling off of him in waves-- Where she took the loss of life badly, he took it worse. “As you can see, Mister Graves,” He started humorously, “we are at quite the disadvantage.” Tina snorted at the response. More than quite, if you asked her! She turned her attention to between the two men and settled on the look Percival wore.

Even as a trainee surprising Percival Graves had always seemed impossible. No matter what the recruits tried in their mock duels he always seemed to be one step ahead of them. Tina had long ago resolved herself to never seeing the man taken off guard by anything-- And yet the appearance of Newt Scamander did just that for him. If she wanted to feel any satisfaction at besting the man who trained her it doesn’t come.

“Well,” He started, pulled a book from the shelf, “I must say this is quite unexpected. I can see why you’d be careful with his identity. Rider, hm?”

There’s a brief pause as the man flipped to the middle of the book and situated the pages. A hand waved over the text until the information swirled into a new bout of words, “that makes Caster, Archer, and Rider the ones we know for certain are summoned. The von Eizenbern’s master summoned Caster, the Tohsaka’s Archer. Other than that we know nothing of their servants true names. When you arrive in Romania your first duty will be to meet up with them.”

She nodded, her and Newt both shifting to get a better look at the pages before them-- Though the information was as sparse as what Percival had already given them. “For the moment, you will be at a truce with both of these families,” Percival continued, “until Grindelwald has been taken out the current participants of the War have agreed to that much. Afterwards, I would suspect that the remaining Masters and Servants will see the War through to its end. Of course, after Grindelwald is defeated, you are free to do as you may.”

Tina tossed Newt a look. Percival was careful with his words-- Determining they would win before they were eve close. No, that wasn’t it-- It was more that they couldn’t lose or else something more disastrous would happen. The weight of the world was being placed on the shoulders of those who could fight back, it was nauseating.

_ Nothing to worry about. After all, worrying means you suffer twice,  _ Newt’s voice entered her mind once more, and she had to force herself to stifle back a snort of laughter. Leave it to a reincarnated dead man to talk about not worrying when he made her do just that. She settled for shooting him a look before turning her attention back to Percival, “Do you we know who it is Grindelwald summoned?”

The man frowned, clearly unhappy with the answer he was about to have to give.

“According to the Mage’s Association they have been unable to detect what Servants have been summoned,” He answered warily, “in the past Holy Grail Wars they would know at the least when one was summoned, even their class. The only news we have had so far has either been given by the participants themselves. We know that Grindelwald summoned a servant, but which we do not know. There has also been a rumor of another being summoned, most likely by one of his followers. At the present moment we believe the incident in Romania was due to an Assassin class. That would mean Saber, Lancer, and Berserker may still be summoned or already are.”

Saber, Lancer, Berserker. Tina went over the classes quietly in her mind. Saber and Lancer were part of the Holy Knight classes, considered the most powerful. Any Saber would be a top tier Servant. Then Berserker, afflicted with madness, was unpredictable and more powerful than others. Grindelwald with any one of them at his call was more dangerous than she wanted to imagine. There simply wasn’t a way Newt or her could stand a chance.

The woman worried into her lower lip before she shook her head. “And we don’t how many others will follow to his side,” She added, quieter than she meant to, “we’ll just have to manage.” She said the last part more firmly, more forcefully than she felt. For as determined and as driven as she was, this seemed an impossible task. Newt may have insisted she not worry, but it felt unlikely she’d do anything but. Percival murmured an incantation again and the pages returned to normal. The man moved to replace the book in its position before he settled the pair with another look.

“I’m not the kind of man to say you will make it back alive. We all know it would be a foolish waste of breath to do so,” Percival remarked, his eyes settling on Newt, “but our fate rests in the hands of those who can fight in this Grail Wa. For better or worse, this will settle things for our kind. You may not have much time left, so I suggest you make the most of it what you can.”

He said nothing more as he lowered himself into his seat. A wave of his hand brought a stack of paperwork towards him. The lines set into his face making him look decades older than he was-- As if it was the weight of the world that sat on his shoulders. In some ways it was, but he said nothing more to the couple. Tina looked at Newt who merely nodded and dematerialized as if on cue. She pulled herself up from her seat and crossed the room. 

“Thank you, sir,” Tina managed in a breath before she opened the door and rejoined the world outside.

As she made her way back through the Department lobby with a renewed resolve she found that the eyes that bore into her didn’t bother her as much. Departmental gossip was no longer something to bother with and for the moment she took to heart what her mentor had said. She grabbed two hot dogs from one of the vendors closer to her apartment and settled into easy banter with Newt on the way back.

“Keep at it and see if I give you the second one,” She said haughtily as she marched her way up towards her stoop, “you and Queenie both--!”

“Teen?”

The tinkling of a too familiar voice halted her mid sentence. The uneaten hot dog fell unwatched from her hand to the pavement as she turned. She should have seen her there, but in the midst of her own thoughts and distracting banter she missed her. Tina couldn’t miss her now, though.

The other woman stood at the bottom of the steps-- plump, round, and with widened eyes that barely held back tears.

“Queenie.”

Somehow she felt Mister Graves was at fault for this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! I'm aiming for a chapter every three days right now. This was a necessary chapter of information. Next chapter will be our last stateside chapter and then we're on to Romania!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes running from your fears is the worst thing you can do. Sometimes your sister knows you better than you do yourself. And, sometimes, there are promise that aren't so easily broken.

_ Even so, the wind blows _

_ towards the future _

_ Feel the breath of life _

_ on your cheek _

 

If there was one thing Tina had learned in her life it was simply this: Lying to Queenie never ended well.

Her sister hadn’t said anything in those steely moments atop the stoop, not even a look of shock passed her demure features. The younger woman had merely smiled and wobbled forward to lock Tina’s elbow under her arm stating that since she couldn’t make it the night before Jacob had prepared a grand lunch for them. As quickly as they had come any desire to protest evaporated under her sister’s gaze and she agreed to follow her back to the bakery. Queenie chirped happily about the news her sister had missed in the past few days: Jacob got a fancy catering job, a lady asked her to fashion her a new dress, and the baby had started kicking!

All the while Tina desperately tried to shield the thoughts from the forefront of her mind. She never blocked Queenie out--she would never even try, despite her grumblings-- but she’d learned long ago how to organize her thoughts. She could shift them and make them less chaotic so when the pair shared an apartment Queenie had some relief in her own home. It wasn’t a constant practice and only used when she was trying desperately to hide her sisters’ birthday gift or when the day’s mission at work was particular bad. Or when, in even more likely occasions, when Queenie’s head was filled with too much and she needed relief.

She remained careful all through lunch to keep her mind filled with her joy for Queenie and Jacob, worries for work, and her constant search for Newt-- all things she knew her sister had gotten accustomed to in the last several months. Tina understood in her heart the likelihood of it at all working was close to zero, but she allowed herself to relax as Jacob brought out dessert. Her smile worked itself into something more natural while she prodded at the piece of pie before her.

“Oh!” Queenie started abruptly, “we were discussing baby names the other day, weren’t we, honey?” 

Queenie glanced over at Jacob with a wide grin, but continued in her ever easy manner, “If it’s a boy we were thinkin’ of naming him after Tati--You and Newt weren’t thinkin’ of using it any were you?”

Tina choked, “Sorry?”

Her sister’s constant ease at conversation would never cease to amaze. Especially not when the next words out of her mouth were said as easily as her earlier lamentation about bladders and pregnancy. “Newt’s back, innit he? You might be trying real hard, but you’re thinking about him even more than usual!” Queenie spoke as sweetly as ever, but instead of a wicked grin or a delighted giggle her expression was more serious than usual--At least it was one Tina knew too well. Queenie was the picture of innocence, softly smiling, but with eyes that shone as scornfully as their mother’s.

“Jacob, honey,” She added, shifting as smoothly as ever, “I think Newt’s gonna be knocking on the door in just a moment, would you get it? I wanna speak to Teenie a moment about what it’s gonna be like when she’s pregnant.”

As if on cue there was a knock on the door.

_ Newt!  _ Tina exclaimed through their mental connection with obvious irritations.

**_I_ ** _ never agreed with you not speaking to your sister,  _ Newt’s voice hummed in return, low in warning,  _ you need this. You need her. My companionship cannot make up for your sister. _

Jacob, perplexed, hurried off to answer the door. Neither of the sisters said anything, but Tina tossed a scathing look over her shoulder towards the two men. Newt didn’t so much as glance at her as he asked Jacob to show him to the nursery, though the smile he wore was sheepish. Traitor.

“We’ll catch up in a minute you two,” Queenie called after the men wobbling to her feet. She picked up her wand from the counter and with a flick the cocoa came down from the cupboard and started warming itself up. Cocoa for cold night and long talks, that’s what their mother had always said. Tina settled into a scowl as her own cup set itself down before her.

“Teen,” the younger woman prodded allowing no more room for silence.

Tina bit down hard on her lip as her hands encircled the warm porcelain. The truth laid itself heavily in her heart. She’d never wanted to lock Queenie out, but to let her live safely, to have this family, it simply wasn’t possible with where and what she was going to have to do. Her sister would want to come with her and it wasn’t something Tina could allow in the most selfish of ways. Tina’s wish was always for Queenie to be happy and safe.

Arms engulfed her in a warm embrace.

She choked as the wave threatened to overwhelm her. The woman had expected to be scolded, for her sister to fight her, but not for the sudden desire to break within her hold. “Teenie,” Queenie whispered her voice quivering as she held her sister desperately closer. Tina felt the soft patter of moisture against her neck as she unraveled. 

When their parents had died it had been Queenie who had cried. In the face of such pain a young Tina had decided to protect her sister, but in turn it was Queenie who had cried her share. As she had gotten older Tina  had gotten better at showing how she truly felt, but it was often Queenie who had to push her. Barely a day ago she’d made the decision to shut them down again and do what needed to be done-- To protect _ Queenie _ . Even as the future she had hoped for crumbled beneath her feet she’d forced herself to bare it. Now Queenie was once more baring her pain and it was suffocating.

Tina’s hands moved, clenching the back of her sister’s shirt, while her shoulders shook with barely hidden emotion. It’s not long before her own tears overflow and she’d find herself grateful later for the simple fact that Newt had kept Jacob distracted for the entire duration of her moment of weakness.

Minutes passed before the two woman calm enough to separate, tear-stained and puffy. Tina dare not look up at her sister though she knew well that everything in her heart had been laid bare to her-- It was, after all, an impossible task to hide anything from her. She had been foolish to even try.

“Look, Queenie,” She started hoarsely, cursing herself for the way her voice was breaking, “it’s not-- I wanted to te--”

“Would you ‘ave?” Queenie cut in accusingly although her voice remained as gentle as ever.

Tina froze. Her sister made a sound in the back of her throat as she picked up her cocoa. “Teenie, you’ve never been any good at this sort of thing,” She remarked not unkindly, “ _ you _ think you gotta go protecting me. Before Jacob and Newt came along you wouldn’t buy along you wouldn’t buy a single thing for yourself if it wasn’t necessary but you sure would encourage me to get what  _ I _ wanted.”

“The boys were a good thing for us, Teen. You started doing things a bit more for you and not me-- And me?” Queenie paused, enough to make Tina look up with concern but her sister’s smile is soft as she looked around the room, “it’s not much but I chose to be here. I’m not leaving neither-- even if MACUSA comes calling. You can’t protect me from that though I know you’ll want to…”

Tina’s frown turned deeper as her sister spoke far too many truths for her liking. She’d risk her position if it meant ensuring that Queenie, Jacob, and the baby were all right. Abernathy would be hiding under his desk when she was through with him. “You see?” Queenie remarked with a laugh before settling down. “But you can’t protect me and I don’t want you to. I was really happy seeing you get all dolled up for seeing Newt or forgetting about everything else while waiting on a letter. It was nice seeing you decide to finally do for _ you _ and not for me.”

“What’s any of this got to do with,” Tina faltered coloring before she hastily tacked on, “--anything?”

“Don’t you know?” Queenie responded as readily as ever, “Teen, more than anythin’ I want to see you happy, too. I mightn’t be some Auror, but you’re my sister. Why would you think I wouldn’t wanna know? --Oh, no! Don’t you go thinkin’ of the baby, you’re my sister Teenie! We--”

Queenie’s voice broke and tears prickled from the corners of her eyes, “Until the boys we were all we had. If you think I want you going off for some noble reason to  _ die _ \--”

“It’s not like that!” Tina managed abruptly.

“It is,” Queenie replied softening under the expression Tina wore, the smile on her lips watery, “but I know you’re tryin’ real hard to convince yourself it’s not. You already decided there was no way you’d make it out, didn’t ya? That you can’t think of what you’d do if Newt d--”

“Don’t.”

“Disappears for good,” Queenie finished leveling Tina with a look.

Tina twisted her hands in her lap without responding. Queenie sighed. Both women looked up when Jacob called from the other woman-- It seemed their minute had taken much too long. Queenie wiped at her eyes with one hand before she once more wobbled to her feet.

“Ever since we were real little, Teen, you were the pa and I was the ma,” She said lowering her voice as she offered her sister a hand, “and I was really hopin’ to see you as Ma one day.” Her eyes crinkled with unshed tears as her sister took an offered hand. Tina continued to refuse to look at her directly as the pair made their way to the pastel colored room.

Queenie, though still tear-stricken, was quick to put on a beaming smile as she pushed open the door.

“And here it is!” She exclaimed, tugging Tina in and leaning into whisper in her ear a moment later, “but you know what? I want to see you as an Aunt, too!” Queenie pulled away as she forced her sister further into show her around the room. She waved off Jacob’s worried remarks about her obvious state and threw her arms around Newt in greeting. Tina for her part remained red and unable to look at any of the inhabitants of the room.

Jacob insisted on giving Newt some baked goods for the go when the time care to which the man could only sheepishly thank him for. Tina remained on the edge of the group feeling as if she was being held up by the way her arms crossed protectively across her chest. Queenie was back to being the one who who lit up the room, the earlier conversation seemingly forgotten though Tina knew all too well it wasn’t.

“Look,” Jacob broke in as the headed for the door, causing the retreating pair to do a doubletake, “I don’t really know much about anything going on, really. Only what Newt’s said-- but the two of you best keep safe-- Then Queenie and I will prepare you a proper wedding--”

It was Queenie’s turn to choke. Jacob may knew they were leaving, but Newt had in no way told him the finer details of the situation. Tina moved to step towards her sister, worryingly and warningly alike, but Jacob was quick to scoop up his wife in his arms. “You’re a peach,” Queenie breathed with a shake of her head to his inquisitions before setting a stern look on the pair, “but you’re certainly right! I’ve had Teen’s dress planned for ages. So do what you gotta and we’ll see you soon.”

Queenie forced the words. Though Jacob looked someone confused by the events of the day, it was clear that Queenie was having no debate on the matter. Newt could only look sheepish and Tina sigh before giving a tight nod. “We’ll be back,” Tina answered, feeling the lie come out far too easily. Even if she did, there was no we. Her teeth caught her lower lip as she turned towards the door once more. 

“Newt, honey?” Queenie said breaking the silence once more to step forward and grasp the man by the elbow, “go on Teen! It’ll just be a sec.” Tina gave her sister a piercing look but Queenie was as unmoved as ever. She huffed another breath before pulling the door open and shut beside her. She’d no sooner settled on the sidewalk when Newt was following after, redder than he’d been yet that day.

“So?” She inquired, brow arched on her features as she peered up at the man.

“No--nothing,” The man stammered, clearing his throat, his fingers flexing as he moved instinctively to take her own. He grasped her hand and tugged in his usual fashion of running away. “We’ve still got plenty to get settled for our trip, yes? A bit behind schedule--”

“Oy!” Tina exclaimed, “it’s your fault!”

“Is it now?” He remarked dryly, the mischief on the corners of his lips taking away from his otherwise sheepish expression, “now that’s certainly news to me.”

She fixed him a glare that the man refused to wilt even a little under, a clear giveaway to his actions. Tina huffed before adding in a quiet, “Thanks.”

Newt hesitated in his step for a moment. It’s not often Tina relented and the man is surprised to find she does. He cocked his head slightly, lips upturned, before he gently squeezed the hand he held onto slowing to a much more manageable pace. “I always promised that should we leave on an adventure to another continent I would ensure you had a chance to say goodbye to your sister,” He answered softly, “I keep my promises, Tina.”

The only response Tina managed is the coloring in her cheeks and the ducking of her head.

_ You broke your promise. _

The words still rang faintly in her ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this ended up being more difficult than I thought to write! For anyone who doesn't know I focus on character growth and interactions than shipping-- The Goldstein sisters hold a much deeper place in my heart than Newtina does. The one who would be able to get through to Tina in this situation is Queenie and I wanted her to have that push.
> 
> This will be the last time Queenie (and Jacob) will be in the story for a while, but I promise they will be back! For now we'll return for one last non-actiony chapter before the battles begin. I hope you've enjoyed this so far!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!!! This is my first time doing Fantastic Beasts fanfics and an AU of this nature at that. For those unfamiliar this AU is based off of Fate/verse and it is not necessary to know it in order to read it! I've mashed the two worlds together into one fixture and have also taken certain liberties for story context. While there will be plenty of OCs abound in this verse the story will always be centralized around Newtina. This is their story of dealing with the war they were thrust into to. There will also be a few ways it ends and while I haven't settled on which one I do plan on trying to add some fluffiness and cute moments along the way in this: 
> 
> However please understand that due to the nature of this AU verse there is going to be a lot of darker themes and implications. Since I'm also dealing with Grindelwald there is also going to be eventual mentions of genocide, although not graphically gone into.
> 
> If you wish to suffer with me then please do! If you have any questions/comments/ideas shoot me a comment. :) 
> 
> Title inspiration from AKB48's " Kaze wa fuite iru". I suggest listening to it for mood music!


End file.
